Lycan Fallout (Book 2): Fall of Man (36 page)

“How? I mean, why would they even bring something like that up? Sure, I’m grateful, but that’s sort of a strange ice-breaking conversation starter.”

“Bailey. She has enlisted the help of everybody, the Landians, traders, scouts, anybody she could think of.”

“I wish she had come up here to tell me herself. I could have thanked her properly. I’ve got to go.” I was digging through the wreckage for my things. “Do you have a general idea of where they were?”

“You are going to leave with the Lycan on the doorstep?”

“You and Azile teaming up on this?”

“I don’t talk to her often,” Mathieu said in all seriousness. “Witches make me feel uncomfortable.”

“Have you known a bunch throughout your lifetime?”

“She’s the first, except for maybe my mother-in-law. I never felt comfortable around her either.”

“Maybe I don’t have to.” I was thinking. “I can’t imagine that it’s a coincidence wolves are around at the same time as Lycan.”

“I do not understand.”

“I don’t either…not yet anyway. Maybe I should talk with Gount, Azile, and Bailey. You okay?” I asked a forlorn Mathieu.

“This is typical of you…isn’t it.” It was a statement, yet I did not know what he was stating, and I told him as much. “You were feeling terribly horrible about yourself and took it out on your surroundings, both real people and inanimate objects. Then I come up here and you just kind of hand off all this ill will like a molded over loaf of bread. Now I’m stuck holding it and you look no worse for the wear. How is that even possible?”

“It’s a gift, Mathieu, that I like to share with my friends.” I grabbed his shoulder. “Come on, I’m sure you have more beer, let’s drink and be merry while we can. I’ll talk to the others soon enough. I’m sure they’ll come looking for me anyway.”

“I hate you.”

“Most do.”

***

“Whoa.” I awoke the next day back in my room. “Did I dream the whole thing?” I was looking around. The furniture was still complete, the mattress still containing all its feathers. There was not a hole in the wall where a beer keg had tried to pass through. “That was pretty realistic.” I sat up in bed, my head swimming in a miasma of old alcohol. “WHOA!” I said louder as I put my hand down and realized I wasn’t alone. I scooted off the bed when I realized that not only was I not alone but that is was Mathieu. “Get up, man! Why are you in my bed!?”

“I would imagine because you were tired.” Mathieu had one eye open, a rope of drool attaching the corner of his mouth to his pillow. “And this is my bed. You pulled yours apart. Remember?”

“Not really.”

“Shut up and either come back to bed or leave quietly. I am not feeling all that resplendent right now.”

I must have tied one on because I’d fallen asleep fully clothed with my boots on, plus I still had my axe clipped to my side. “Yeah, this looks like comfortable sleeping apparel. I’ll see you later.”

Mathieu grunted and then turned over. I noticed he had no shirt on.

“Are you naked? Please tell me you’re not naked.”

He pulled the covers down so I could see his ass.

“Oh, come on, man.”

“Civilized men do not sleep in boots,” he moaned.

“Yeah, well, they also don’t sleep naked next to other men, I mean, unless they’re into that kind of thing.”

“It is my bed. I will sleep in it any way that I choose. You decided to plop yourself down into it when you realized the floor was not that comfortable. Oh, and just so you know, I usually sleep on your side, all spread-eagled.”

“Oh, that’s just damn gross.” If my stomach hadn’t already been on the edge this was sure to send it plunging over the precipice. I made sure to see if I could make the hotel shake when I shut his door.

“You’re an asshole,” drifted out from his room.

I smiled as I headed down the hallway.

“Michael.”

I stopped in my tracks. It was Lana.

“We need to talk about last night.”

I turned. “Did I say something inappropriate? More importantly, did I do something inappropriate? I’m sorry, and sleeping with Mathieu, it meant nothing, it was just a one night stand.”

“You slept with Mathieu?” She shook her head.

“Well, not in the biblical sense, we just shared a bed.”

“I say, ‘yes.’ ”

“Umm, okay. Congratulations, I guess.”

“I’m telling you I said yes, and you’re congratulating me? That’s a little self-centered, even for you.”

“Lana, I’m lucky I’m even standing right now. I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“We were together for nearly most of the night. How could you not remember? I would have never accepted your proposal if I did not think you coherent enough to know exactly what you were saying.”

“Ma...my proposal? What sort of proposal?”

“Why marriage, of course.”

Vertigo did not even begin to accurately describe the cyclone of emotions that were twisting around in my head.

“Are you okay?” Lana reached out to steady me. I searched her face intensely for the deceit I knew had to be there. I saw nothing that led me to believe she was being anything but forthcoming.

“Does Azile know about this?” I pulled her in close and was looking around.

“Does Azile know about what?” the question came from behind me.

“This is the worst morning, ever.” I sighed.

“Michael has slept with Mathieu and we are to be wed!” Lana was nearly bouncing on her toes as she gave all of this information.

An older man from across the hallway had opened his door to see what all the noise was about. He shut it quickly enough when he heard the news and saw the sad expression on my face. Or maybe it was the anger on Azile’s that did it.

“Two deceitful indiscretions in one night? That is a lot even for you, Michael.” Azile was smiling.

“Wait, what?” Lana was smiling as well. “This is a set-up? We’re good?” I pointed from myself to Azile.

“After your display last night, I would say that we were okay.”

I wanted to ask what display exactly she was referring to, but I kept my lips closed for a couple of reasons. First, it would not look good at all if I didn’t remember what I had done. And secondly, I was “ahead” why chance it?

“You heard about Oggie?”

“I have, although I do not know how or why he would be running with a wolf pack. They are reluctant to bond with dogs.”

“He has my charm.”

“They would have already thrown him out if that were the case.”

“Funny. Will Bailey meet with me?”

“Perhaps. Why?”

“I heard about the Lycan as well.”

We hunted down Bailey, which really wasn’t all that hard to do. She was spending as much time as she could with every member of the community that she could. Talboton had the weaponry, just not the manpower to wield it properly; she was doing her best to change that.

“Absolutely not,” was Bailey’s definitive answer after I made my case. “I cannot leave. Not now, and I do not have the manpower to spare on what amounts to a fruitless endeavor.”

She was right…to a point. We were vulnerable beyond the walls, but then, so were they; especially if they weren’t expecting a coordinated attack. To make it worthwhile I’d need fifty armed men, a hundred would be more preferable. It couldn’t be done. Talboton would be almost defenseless, and I wasn’t taking a bunch of green recruits that she’d offered into the field. They’d run at the first sign of trouble.

When Tommy and I had first got to town, the population stood at about twenty-six hundred, and of that, roughly ten percent were commissioned to defend her walls. That had nearly been halved since the first Lycan encounters and then the battles with the coalition. Normally five percent of a population would be sufficient. To put it in context, in my time during its heyday, the military accounted for roughly one percent of the population. Give or take. But we were facing an enemy ten times or more our defensive numbers. Arms advantage or not, we were in trouble.

In the end, I don’t think Bailey wanted to be with me. Pretty much sums up that story. For the most part, I do believe she’d forgiven me, but that’s not something you easily forget. For fuck’s sake, I’d wanted to rip her throat out. Yeah, I would have felt bad about it, but she’d still be dead…and I would have killed a relative of my best friend. That kind of stuff goes over
huge
upstairs.

“What did you expect?” Azile had been watching from across the street.

“I don’t really know. I finally come up with a plan, and now, no one wants to listen.”

She smiled at that. “When are you going out to look for Oggie?”

“I made a promise to you. I know I’ve broken promises before to just about everyone I’ve known but not out of malice or conscious deception. It’s just that something has always come up, which made sticking to that original oath not viable.”

“There’s no need to explain to me, Michael. I’ve known you long enough.”

“That’s true. What I’m trying to say is that I know Oggie is close and my heart surges with hope knowing he is alive and that I might yet see him again. But I will first do all in my power to make sure that Talboton does not fall. I need to do it partly for me, but mostly I need to show Bailey that maybe I’m not the monster she thinks I am.”

“She loves you.”

“Are you yanking my chain?”

She outright laughed, eliciting more than a few looks from those passing us in the street. “Haven’t heard that particular vernacular in quite some time. And no, I am not yanking your chain as you so eloquently put it. I believe she is more hurt than scared.”

“You really know how to cheer a fella up.”

“Perhaps you should seek out Lana.”

“Now I know how you got your moniker.”

“Which one?”

“Witch. Oww! What the hell, Azile!” I felt a shock on my ass like a troop of deer flies had congregated to sit down to a blood meal. “What the hell was that?” I was patting my ass, she was just staring at me, hadn’t moved so much as a muscle.

She had a wry smile. “I know not what you speak of.”

“My ass, you don’t.”

I was still rubbing the sore spot as we walked down the street. I barely even noticed that we had about a twenty-foot bubble of space around us. I don’t think it happened intentionally, but it seemed as if folks didn’t want to get any closer to us than they had to.

***

Mathieu, Azile, and I stayed on the parapet for most of that night. I’d even had the foresight to grab some chairs. We drank mainly iced tea, which was just fine, even if it didn’t have ice in it. It felt more like three friends sitting on a deck overlooking a lake, reminiscing about the summer that had just passed as opposed to waiting for a war that threatened to destroy everything and everyone that we knew. What was the alternative? Worry about it? I’d done enough worrying; this useless emotion did nothing except waste resources. It did not change outcomes nor alter events. I wondered for a moment what went wrong on our evolutionary tract that made worrying a necessary part of our make-up. Maybe it was designed to give action-first idiots like myself time to pause and consider. Hadn’t worked for me yet.

“It’s a beautiful night.” Mathieu was leaning back, looking at the stars as they began to become visible.

“It is, and no bugs. Just the right temperature. If my stomach could take it and I could drink a beer, it would almost be perfect.”

“Michael, with your blood, you should be fine by now.”

“Azile, I’m going to keep living my lie. The more I still feel like a human, the more human I remain.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Mathieu said as he clinked my glass. I’d taught him the custom when we first started drinking together and now he did it at every opportunity, whether it necessitated it or not. I had to keep telling him that one did not need to do this at the dinner table every time someone took a sip of whatever they had. He didn’t care.

“What do you want to do tomorrow night, Mathieu?” He knew what I was referring to. I’d strapped him to his bed with the heaviest rope I could find last month. I’d expected to come back to a room that looked like a rock band on a nasty heroin trip had stayed at. Nothing could have been further from the truth. He was human again and in basically the same position I’d left him. He’d told me to hurry up and untie him because he needed to relieve himself to no end. That above all I found to be the most strangely amusing thing I think I’d encountered in a very long time.

“I think I would like to remain free.”

“Is that wise?” Azile asked with concern.

“Wise. She’s funny.” I clinked glasses with Mathieu.

“I’m serious, Michael. Mathieu, for a variety of reasons I do not think this is a good idea.”

“I will not attack humans,” he said in no uncertain terms, his words measured and careful. I could feel the anger he was trying to hold back, like a 302 horsepower Mustang at a red light with a cop in the car next to him. It thrummed in him like that muscle-laden engine.